


Marching in Time (To a Tune I’ve Forgotten)

by orphan_account



Category: Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch (Video Game)
Genre: (not by the emperor tho!! other meanies), Angst, Character Study, Child Abuse, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt No Comfort, Minor Character Death, Murder, and that’s about it for trigger warnings, trigger warning for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22235632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (yes, title is a Falsettos reference, sue me. see tags for trigger warnings.)He wasn’t always a lowlife thief. He used to be a fine young man...but after he ran away, there was a man that Gascon couldn’t get his mind off of. A man who claimed to be from the future...and now, Gascon was modeling his entire life after him.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Marching in Time (To a Tune I’ve Forgotten)

This wasn’t how Gascon wanted his life to go. On the run, forced to live in solitude just because he was too cowardly to face his father...but, did he have much of a choice? He may not have, at least not until now.

He spotted a ship, just near the harbor. It seemed to be one of those luxury ships, that only the richest of the rich could afford to ride. It had to be leaving Autumnia...if he could manage to get on, then he’d be set! As long as it wasn’t going to Yule, or anywhere else on that freezing, God forsaken continent...maybe if he got lucky, it would go to a deserted island where he could stay. Gascon quickly ran up to the ship, but his dreams of leaving the continent were instantly crushed when he saw people handing a man their tickets to get on board...Gascon knew that he was broke. He couldn’t afford a ticket…

He thought about his options for a moment. He could try sneaking on…but that seemed impossible without the help of someone else. But it was starting to get cold out...the cold wind nipped at Gascon’s skin, and he knew that if he didn’t find a way on that ship, he may as well just freeze to death. Noticing a few men speaking together, Gascon slowly approached, trying to get a clearer view. As one of the men laughed at something another man said, a small piece of paper fluttered slowly to the ground, going unnoticed by all of them. Gascon seized the opportunity and walked past the men, pretending to have dropped something of his own before bending down to pick up the ticket. He quickly walked away, completely unseen.

_ “That was just dumb luck,”  _ Gascon thought to himself.  _ “That or he was just plain stupid.” _

Gascon walked up to the ship, handing the man his ticket. He spared a glance back at the man he stole the ticket from...he still didn’t notice it had been stolen, which was perfect for Gascon. The last thing he needed right now was an angry man charging at him for stealing from him. But Gascon needed the ticket...just one glance at the man told Gascon that he was more than likely swimming in riches. Gascon had nothing. He needed this more than anyone, whether people would admit it or not.

Gascon felt relieved when he safely made it on the ship. But, of course, the danger didn’t end there. Soon, there was another man in front of him, seemingly another worker on this ship. He gave Gascon a courteous smile, although Gascon wasn’t quite sure what he was meant to do. 

“Name?”

Shit. Gascon hadn’t thought of what he was meant to say his name was. He had to think fast, though, because soon people would get suspicious, and…

“Say, kid, you look quite a bit like Prince Gascon,” said one man.

“You’re right,” said another. “It does look quite a lot like him…”

“I’m not a Prince!” Gascon defended. “In fact, my name is...Swaine!”

Gascon’s heart was pounding out of his chest. He was nervous, scared of being found out and kicked off the ship. He felt stupid for saying his name was Swaine. That dumbass claiming to be from the future, or whatever...Gascon was nothing like him, and he knew he would regret choosing to name himself after that bastard later on. But, for now, any name was better than Gascon…

“Strange...Captain never mentioned a ‘Swaine’ coming on...you sure you belong on this ship, kid?” The worker asked. Gascon scowled, looking angry. “Of course I’m being serious, idiot! I got on this ship somehow, right?”

“Don’t let that kid on board! He’s a thief!”

Gascon gasped and turned around, seeing the man he stole a ticket from right behind him. He felt someone grab his shoulder, turning him around. Suddenly, Gascon was surrounded by men working on the ship. He was trapped with nowhere to run to, forced to face his consequences.

“You have a lot of nerve sneaking onto this ship, kid,” one of the workers said. “In case you couldn’t tell, we have a strict policy against delinquents like you.”

“So, you’ll have to face the consequences that every other thief has had to face!”

One of the workers grabbed Gascon by the collar, yanking him closer. With a smug grin present on his face, he wound back his fist, and all Gascon could do was shut his eyes tight and brace himself for what was about to happen. But the impact never came.

“Just what in blazes is going on here?!”

“Sir!” The workers shouted in unison, the one man releasing Gascon from his grasp. “The child snuck on board, Sir,” one man explained. “He stole the ticket from another man! We were just about to deal with him.”

The man who Gascon assumed was the Captain of the ship walked over, the sound of his boots hitting the wooden floor of the boat breaking any silence among them all. He looked down at Gascon condescendingly, which Gascon certainly didn’t like. “Who are you, kid? And what business do you have sneaking on my ship?”

Gascon scowled. “My name is Swaine. And as if I would tell you why I’m here,” he snapped. The Captain laughed, but Gascon didn’t say anything funny. 

“So you think you can just sneak on board without anyone noticing? Do you even know where this ship is going, kid?”

Gascon didn’t have the chance to answer before the Captain answered for him. “Castaway Cove, in the Summerlands. Tell you what...if you think you can handle it there, I’ll let you stay in the bottom cabin, since you’re just a measly little kid. But be warned, the bottom cabin is no fancy Cat’s Cradle. It’s considered the prison deck, for those who misbehave on long trips. It’s dirty, cold, and dark down there. The only food you’ll get for the three days we’re at sea is the leftovers the others throw out, and the only friends you’ll make are the vermin living down there. You cannot leave, unless there is an emergency. If you think you can handle that, then you’ll prove yourself determined enough to last the trip.”

Gascon’s frown cut deeper. He hated the cold, and everything else about that sounded just horrible as well. But if he stayed in Autumnia, he’d freeze to death anyway…

“I’ll do it,” Gascon said. “I’ll last three days.” His words once again made the Captain laugh, despite there being nothing funny about what he had said. “Very well, then! I wish you the best of luck…” He pointed to one of the crew members. “You! Take our beloved guest to his room,” he said with a smirk. The man took Gascon roughly by the shoulder, leading him to the bottom of the ship.

As soon as Gascon stepped foot in there, he immediately recoiled. It was freezing cold, first of all. Although no wind got through, he was worried that if he touched the floor, his hand would freeze to the ground. It smelled horrible, too. Like five month old piss. It was dark and gross, the only available being the sunlight filtering through the small cracks between the boards in the ship. “Welcome to your vacation home. Enjoy the three day stay,” the crew member said smugly.

Gascon looked at a small chute in the ceiling. “What’s that for?” He asked curiously. The worker smirked. “You’ll just have to see,” he said sinisterly, before leaving.

Now, Gascon was alone.

A few minutes later, he felt movement. The ship left the dock, bobbing up and down, making Gascon feel seasick and claustrophobic. But still, he had to prove his determination. He wouldn’t give up just because of this.

He waited. He waited for hours and hours. He found out that the chute was actually the garbage chute, which was where he was meant to get his meals from. Gascon didn’t eat much at all on that ship, of course. He spent most of his time sleeping, or trying to identify different mold spots. 

Days, he waited. Waited for this to end. Starting a new life should be easy. Why did this have to be so difficult? 

Another day. More waiting, as he heard muffled speaking. The garbage piled up, which Gascon decided to keep on one side of the ship, while he stayed on the opposite end. He imagined life back home in his head, with Dad and Marcassin, and realized how much he took everything for granted there. Even if his dad never showed any real love towards him, at least he provided him with basic needs. Gascon didn’t know what was going on anymore. He lost count of how many days he’d been stuck in here. He wondered if anyone was thinking about him. Whether on the ship, or back home, in Hamelin. Probably not. After all, Marcassin was the only one people would speak about. Marcassin was the only prince who mattered to the people of Hamelin. No one wanted to see Gascon as Emperor of the kingdom. He’d make a shitty ruler, and even he knew it. He wouldn’t be able to handle the affairs with Ding Dong Dell and Al Mamoon. He was already a terrible son. But everyone loved Marcassin. Everyone wanted Marcassin to be their ruler, and everyone always gave Marcassin praise and gifts while Gascon never got anything. No, nobody ever thought to even tell him he would make a good Emporer. Gascon was the forgotten heir to the throne. People never thought of him when they thought ‘future leader of Hamelin’. That’s because Gascon was bad at everything. Even protecting his little brother. Now, he was stuck with the shitty name of some guy who claimed to be from the future, and he had no family, nowhere to stay once he got to the Summerlands. He had no money or provisions. No way to defend himself from the impending dangers. He was all alone. 

After what felt like weeks, the boat came to a slow halt. He heard muffled cheers of various people, and a few minutes later, the door opened, Gascon had to squint against the light of the sun that filtered in, but he hadn’t seen the sun in days. He was led outside, where he felt blinded by the light...but he was forced to look up at the captain, squinting even harder. The light was so intense, it hurt.

The captain laughed. “So you lasted, huh, kid? Well, welcome to Castaway Cove...now, out of my sight!!”

Gascon was quite literally thrown off the ship, hungry, tired, and a mess. He looked up and saw a small beach town...he walked around a bit, looking through the windows of some of the shops. In one window, he saw something perfect...a small pistol, the perfect size to fit in his hand. He needed that more than anything right now...maybe if it was cheap, he could work for it. Gascon opened the door to the shop, seeing the shopkeeper behind the counter. “Welcome to my shop, young man,” he said gruffly. Gascon didn’t respond, but instead went to the pistol he saw before. “Ah, interested in that beauty, are we?” The man asked. Gascon didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t like the feeling this man gave him. “How much is it?” Gascon asked, and the man smiled. “That would be 13,000 guilders.”

Gascon held back a gasp. That was way too expensive. But still, he needed it, more than this man probably needed the money. “You’re not thinking of doing anything naughty, are you, boy?” Asked the man. Gascon didn’t say anything. Before the man could say anything else, he grabbed the gun and attempted to make a run for it, but was grabbed by the collar and turned around before he could make it out the door. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

The man grabbed the gun from Gascon with one hand, trying to pull it away from him. “Now, be a good boy, and give me the gun.” Gascon held on with both hands, still trying to pull away. How was this man so strong…? He kept pulling and pulling, with every ounce of strength he had, until suddenly, his hand slipped, and-

_ *BANG* _

Gascon flinched as the sound went off. He squeezed his eyes shut, but nothing happened. Hesitantly, he opened them, but was horrified at what he saw. The man man was wide eyed, and the grip he had on the pistol slackened before he fell to the floor, blood pooling out of his stomach. Gascon covered his mouth with his hand. “I-I’m sorry!” Gascon yelled, tears streaming from his eyes. “O-Oh God, what have I done...what have I done?!” Gascon had no time to think. He immediately ran out, but as soon as he stepped foot outside, he heard someone scream out. 

“It’s him! That’s the same thief who tried stealing my ticket!”

“He has a gun! That shot was him!”

“Murderer!!!”

All Gascon could do was the one thing he knew how to do- run.

He ran. 

And he didn’t stop running.

He ran so far away, even when his legs couldn’t keep up anymore. He ran, even when he felt on the verge of passing out. He ran, even when he couldn’t feel anything.

He collapsed in the middle of a desert. 

Gascon couldn’t feel anything. His body was numb, but his mind was far from so. He killed a man. Gascon just killed a man who was only trying to make a living off of selling weapons. He couldn’t stop crying over it. Even though he didn’t even know the man, he....he felt terrible. He was horrible. He was a monster.

Gascon then noticed another kingdom in the distance. “A city in the middle of the desert?” He thought aloud. “Wait...that must be Al Mamoon!”

Al Mamoon! That kingdom had close ties with Hamelin- if he was able to speak to Queen Lowlah, he might be able to get a letter sent to Hamelin, so he could go home…

But then, his whole trip here would’ve been for nothing. He’d have to face being known as a nobody. Gascon stared at the kingdom longingly. “It wouldn’t hurt to pay a visit,” he said quietly. “But, still. I’m Swaine now. Gascon is dead, killed by Swaine. No one will speak of him anymore.”

That’s what Swaine decided.

***

After he could feel his legs again, Swaine walked over to Al Mamoon. The place looked a lot better than Hamelin did. He didn’t know what it was about it...but everyone seemed a lot happier. It almost brought a smile to Swaine’s face. He laid low for a while. But, he overheard something. 

“Did you hear?”

“The Emperor of Hamelin was killed by Shadar.”

“His sons had to watch it happen.”

“I thought there were rumors that Prince Gascon ran away from home?”

“Must’ve been after. But, the Emperor is dead now, and young Marcassin rules over the kingdom now.”

“Poor kid. He isn’t fit to be a leader yet...he’s only a child.”

“Well, they don’t have much of a choice, unless they hunt down his other son.”

Swaine couldn’t believe what he was hearing. No, he never knew his dad was...he tried keeping it together. Why should he care about his father? The man never cared about him. He never tried caring, he only ever told Swaine that he was a failure, and that he wouldn’t do nearly as much for Hamelin’s future as his younger brother would. He should be happy to be rid of such a burden. Maybe it was knowing that Marcassin was the ruler now that threw him off. He didn’t want to believe it. That kid couldn’t even cast a simple spell...Swaine tried clearing his head. He needed to think of something else.

His stomach growled, reminding him to feed himself. Good enough distraction, he supposed.

He saw another shop. This one seemed to be a provisions shop. Swaine was starving...he hadn’t eaten much of anything in three days. He walked inside, holding onto his gun. The shopkeeper gave him a friendly smile. “Welcome! How can I…” She trailed off when she saw Swaine holding up his gun. She immediately reached for the guilders she had, placing them on the table before putting her hands up. Swaine grabbed them off the table, but didn’t settle on that yet. “That won’t do,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “Give me the provisions you have. Until then, I won’t go anywhere.”

Swaine watched as she scrambled to grab as much as she could. “P-Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, and finally, Swaine put his gun away once he was satisfied. He grabbed everything off the counter and ran out of the shop, making sure he was a safe distance away from the kingdom before immediately biting into a loaf of bread. He had never tasted anything so good in his life...just as he was about to eat the second loaf, it all hit him, like a beast charging at him at full force. He threatened a lady, just so he could eat this food. He shot a man, just so he could have the gun he used to threaten her. Now feeling haunted by his own actions, Swaine put away his loaf of bread, deciding to keep the rest for later...speaking of, where else could he go? He couldn’t stay in Castaway Cove for another few years, that’s for sure. And he was probably wanted in Al Mamoon, too…

Swaine made up his mind. He would live in the woods, until it was safe to leave. He walked another length across the desert until he found a path into the forest. He followed it for a while, until he found someone’s body. He wore a green jacket, had curly hair, and...wait a second. “Swaine!” He shouted, running over to him. But as soon as he got a good look at the corpse’s face, he realized it wasn’t him. But still, that coat...making sure no one was around, Swaine snatched up the coat, putting it on. It felt...big. But he would grow into it. It felt...oddly comforting. Swaine liked it.

This is who he was now. A criminal with a gun. A criminal who killed a man. He couldn’t escape his sins, not as long as he lived. Gascon wasn’t alive anymore. Not to the world, anyway. Swaine killed him, and that was who he was now. Swaine. There was only one Prince of Hamelin. There was only one boy who would inherit the throne. The Emperor had just one son, who could do magic, just like him. Prince Marcassin would inherit the throne- no, he already has. The Emperor is dead now. Poor Marcassin has no family.”

Swaine knew those words would echo throughout his head for years. But all he could do was run away. 

Run far, far away.


End file.
